


Tea with Sweets

by Jaro (jar_o_mirth)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dwarf Courting, Fluff, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:44:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4550961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jar_o_mirth/pseuds/Jaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dori hadn’t kissed anyone in a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea with Sweets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iraya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iraya/gifts).



> Prompt: "Balin/Dori. How about them making out and they hear someone coming so one of them hides while their partner makes up some lame excuse." (Update: She drew something for it and [IT'S BEAUTIFUL](http://iraya.tumblr.com/post/127960020859)!!)
> 
> Unbeta'd.

Dori hadn’t kissed anyone in a while. Not because no one had wanted to kiss him, mind you, but because he simply hadn’t had the time to be fooling around when there were so many things to do. Look after his brothers, prepare for the quest, keep the business running. Those were but a few of the things that occupied Dori’s mind every day. Requests to spar or brawl or go for a walk had been ignored, as usual, in favour of getting things sorted out. And if he had said no to those, he certainly hadn’t said yes to the more intimate ones.

But then Balin had walked into the tea shop, carrying a little metal box with confectionery wrapped in soft leaves, and Dori had agreed to rest for a little while. Balin had hung the CLOSED sign outside and locked the door, Dori setting up one of the tables that were furthest from the front of the shop. If a client saw him from outside, they wouldn’t care about the sign and demand his attention anyhow.

“Long day?” Balin asked, setting the box on the table.

“Quite.”

They sat down, foregoing sitting opposite one another and choosing to sit next to each other instead, and Dori poured them both a cup of chamomile. He then wet his lips with the drink before reaching for a sweet, and he delighted in the way it seemed to melt in his mouth when he bit into it.

How very typical of Balin, to spoil him with gifts that were good enough for kings. That made Dori lift the box and check for the royal crest, but it was nowhere to be found. Dori glanced at Balin, who gave him a cheeky smile. He set the box back down.

“It isn’t even noon yet,” Balin pointed out, retaking their conversation. He took a sip of his tea. “You should consider closing early today. Dwalin and I would love to have you and your brothers come for dinner.”

“I will consider it,” Dori said.

Balin gave him a knowing look. “Which is to say you won’t.”

“There is a lot to do around here,” Dori sniffed. “I cannot just up and leave.”

“Hm. Think of it as doing something daring,” Balin said, the smile on his face growing as he leant in, “as practice for the upcoming quest.”

“Something daring,” Dori repeated, his eyes flickering to Balin’s lips.

“Indeed.”

Dori didn’t know when it had happened, but he had leant forwards as well and was now close enough to feel Balin’s breath caress his face. Balin surged up then, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before backing up just enough for them to make eye contact without getting cross-eyed. Dori narrowed his eyes and Balin gave him a languid smile.

Slowly, Balin moved back in, but Dori met him halfway this time. Their mouths brushed together and Dori sighed into the kiss, which tasted of chamomile and Balin’s lips. One of Balin’s hands came up to stroke his beard, tugging at his tight and neat plaits before sliding up his jaw to tickle the shell of his ear. Dori giggled, and then gave Balin a playful swat.

“Stop that,” he murmured against his lips.

Balin made a noncommittal sound, but relented in his tickling and cupped his cheek instead. Dori wrapped and arm around Balin and pulled him closer, closer, closer—until Balin almost fell off his chair with a clatter. Dori sniggered, watching as Balin muttered and dragged the chair nearer to his so he wouldn’t land on his arse.

“You could always sit here,” he offered, patting his lap. Balin gave him a wary look, so he grinned and said, “Honest.”

“You are a menace, my dear,” Balin said.

A moment later, Dori was helping Balin settle on his lap. They weren’t as young as they had been once, so Dori made sure that Balin was comfortable. It wouldn’t do to have his back aching later. They day was far from over, as Balin had said before, and the dwarf was a busy person indeed. Such was the case when one worked directly under King Thorin.

Balin made a satisfied little sound when he decided that he was comfortable enough in Dori’s lap, and then resumed their kiss. It started slow and soft, neither of them in a hurry to do anything else than bask in each other’s company for a while. Balin’s nose pressed against Dori’s cheek, and Dori smoothed down the dwarf’s wild beard as their mouths danced together. It was a small display of affection, seeing how his hands could be wandering to other places, but Dori knew how much Balin liked it when he petted his beard and so went for the more innocent yet very intimate act.

Like all things, however, their leisurely kiss wasn’t meant to last. Dori hadn’t felt the pleasure of another’s skin against his own in a while, and the pitch of his stomach began to tighten as the minutes passed by. His hands strayed from Balin’s beard, first tracing the contours of his clothes and then giving sharp little tugs at the thick belt round Balin’s waist. Balin didn’t seem to mind, his hand sliding from Dori’s cheek to cradle the back of his neck. He angled their heads so the kiss could go deeper, and Dori let out a soft moan that made Balin squirm in his lap.

“Do you think—” Balin whispered.

“How about—” Dori started.

They both fell silent, but the look they shared said it all. Balin’s free hand slid down his chest with enticing slowness, at last reaching his belt and unclasping it with a well-practiced flick of his fingers. His robes slid open just enough to tease Dori with a peek at the layers which were closer to Balin’s skin.

Dori pushed a hand past all the layers of clothing, his fingertips finding Balin’s furry chest in no time. He moved his hand a bit to the side and found a nipple, round and pliant under his touch. Balin gave a little gasp, and then shoved his mouth against Dori’s, his hands tugging at the collar of his shirts as their tongues twined. Dori groaned, rubbing Balin’s soft flesh until it was a hard little stub between his fingers. Balin’s hand moved to tug at his hair; Dori was sure he was making a mess of his braids.

Just as Balin moved to unlace Dori’s robes, the back door of the shop opened with a slam.

“Dori!” called Nori.

Balin slid off Dori’s lap and closed his garments, patting down his hair. He still looked like he had been doing some very indecent things just now, his lips swollen and red and his breath just a bit too agitated. Fixing his own hair, Dori jerked his head at the small broom closet that they kept next to the door that led into the kitchen. Balin nodded and went to it, opening the door and shuffling inside with as little noise as possible.

Just as the door closed behind him, Nori walked out of the kitchen. He had a fat leather pouch in his hand and he looked like the cat that got the cream. Dori glared at him, sure that Nori hadn’t come across it by any honest means.

“Look what I found, brother,” Nori said, tossing the pouch up in the air and catching it. “And you know what they say about finding stuff: Finders, keepers. Isn’t that right?”

“And in whose pocket did you find it?” Dori asked. “I’m sure they wouldn’t agree with your policy.”

“Whether they agree or not is hardly my…”

Nori seemed to notice Dori’s slightly dishevelled state then, his voice trailing off. His eyes slanted to the table—set for two—and then the box of sweets—expensive and not something Dori would buy—that lay between both cups of tea. He frowned, tossing the pouch onto the counter as he walked closer. The coins in it spilt across the wooden surface, clinking noisily in the silence.

“What’s all this?”

“Ori’s coming over for tea.”

“Ori’s got a long shift at work today,” Nori said, eyeing Dori. “He won’t come home until evening.”

“Really, now? Well, I guess I mixed up the timetables.”

“You never mix up the timetables.”

“There is a first time for everything, don’t you think?”

“Are you hiding something from me?” Nori queried, his eyes fixed on Dori’s face, as if he could read his lies on his laughter lines. “A suitor, maybe?”

“You know I turn them all down.”

“But that doesn’t mean you’re above necking with one of them.”

“Nori!”

“It’s true.”

“No, it isn’t. I would never do such a thing.”

Truth was he never accepted anyone’s gifts or advances because he was happily spoken for. He had accepted a betrothal token from Balin when they had barely had enough hair to cover their cheeks. It had been reckless—and rather senseless—of them to do so, and they had considered pretending it had never happened on grounds that they had both been young and silly.

But what was the point in breaking an engagement when you were content with it? Neither Balin nor Dori could see the logic behind doing such a thing, and so they had remained betrothed for a bit over a century. They would have to get married soon if they wanted to go through with it. No one could promise they would survive the quest, after all.

“You’d tell me if you were seeing someone, right?” Nori asked.

“Don’t be stupid, brother.”

“That isn’t a yes, I’m afraid.”

“It isn’t a no, either, so you’ll have to make do.”

Nori rolled his eyes. “Suit yourself.”

They spoke some more, Dori trying to persuade him into giving back the pouch—“Yes, Nori, I know it’s stolen; don’t even try to deny it!”—and Nori gobbling down the sweets that Balin had brought. His brother was trying to get a rise out of him, Dori knew. Sharing one’s gifts was not something most dwarves did willingly, and so it would be understandable and quite telling if Dori suddenly lost it and tried to box Nori’s ears for his impertinence.

What Nori didn’t know, however, was that Dori had been sharing his courting gifts with him and Ori for decades. Everything Balin gave him ended up in possession of either of his younger brothers. Balin knew how much Dori loved them, as well as how much he tried to give them everything they needed, and so his gifts had practical purposes: Mittens for Ori, whetstones for Nori, and so on. The only thing Dori had kept for himself was the long pure-silver bead that held his beard together. That one was his and his alone.

 “Well, I’m off,” said Nori after having popped the last sweet into his mouth. “Great stuff, these. Tell your lover he’s got good taste when he comes out of hiding.”

“Get lost already,” Dori muttered, making Nori laugh as he departed.

The broom closet opened with a creak, and Balin’s snow-white head peeked out. He gave Dori a small smile, which he returned with and exasperated eye-roll.

“Come here so we can finish what we started,” Dori said, beckoning him closer with a hand.

Balin tripped with a rag in his haste to comply.


End file.
